What George Doesn't Want Known
by Terri'smind
Summary: Slash: Not Grafic. Mpreg. NOT GW/DM. DH compliant for the most part. What secrets could George Weasley be hiding that he doesn't want anyone to know; not even Fred? And why does Draco Malfoy, of all people, know them? What happens when George gets another secret, one that's harder to hide than the rest?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

If any of the inhabitants of Grimmauld Place, London, were looking out their window, they would have seen a cloaked figure. He appeared out of thin air, face hidden in his hood. He rushed through the dreary rain and mud, and stood in front of a seemingly empty lot between numbers eleven and thirteen.

Moments later he had vanished as swiftly as he had appeared.

Inside Number Twelve Grimmauld Place a raven-haired man, looking no more than eighteen, sat down on a caramel colored, leather sofa. He poured Earl Grey tea in his and his visitor's cup. The visitor was only slightly older than the other, no more than two years; he removed his hood and brushed wild strands of bright red hair away, before taking a calming sip.

The dark-haired man narrowed emerald eyes, taking in his friend's appearance as he took off his cloak. His previously short hair had grown a bit below the shoulder to hide the ear he had lost, dark circles surrounded tired eyes, looking like he had not slept in days. His prided green, dragon hide pants were wrinkled and stained with what he suspected to be coffee. His white silk shirt likewise ruined. He frowned when he noticed dark green eyes accessing his appearance.

"George, you look like Hell." The black-haired man stated, frowning at the red-head.

George ran his hands though his hair. Yeah, he knew he looked like a mess, but someone else pointing it out made it unnecessarily real, and worse. His reason for looking as if he had been trampled by a herd of rampaging Hippogriffs? Well, worrying about the biggest secret in his life being revealed tended to do that to him.

For almost a week he'd been terrified what Harry'd thought about him. He hadn't wanted anyone in his family to see him like that. Thankfully Harry hadn't spoken about what he may or may not have seen or he'd have the whole Weasley family to confront…thank god Harry wasn't big on gossip.

"Yeah, Harry, I know." George said, groaning, falling back into the soft cushions of his chair.

Harry was concerned at George's distress, but knowing that didn't keep a bemused smirk off his face. He knew what George had come to speak with him about, and it was funny how anxious he had become about it.

"How much did you see?" George asked, his brown eyes peeping though the fingers covering his face. He knew Harry couldn't have seen much. There truly hadn't been much to see…was what he kept on telling himself. Still it would probably be enough to make him want to point his wand to his head, killing curse on the tip of his tongue.

Harry sighed, his amused look falling. He hadn't seen anything really; okay he did, but not much. But what he had seen was more than enough to imply something. Something George was obviously afraid of anyone knowing.

To be honest, he had been surprised when the pieces fell together. It did explain why he and Alicia had never been more than friends, though almost everyone believed them to be dating.

"Enough," Harry stated simply.

George could feel the heat of his blush, as he took another sip of tea. Picking up a cauldron cake, he nibbled on it. "So what do you think?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. Was that what George was most concerned about? What other people thought about him? That seemed strangely out of character.

"About you being gay?" George nodded, and Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Does what I think really matter?"

"Of course it does, you prat." George said, rolling his eyes. Of course Harry's opinion mattered, the only person who thought it didn't was Harry himself. The only thing Harry lacked was blood, from being one of the Weasleys, that was. Not to mention the Tri-wizard Tournament money he had given to Fred and him. Harry was stupid to think his thoughts didn't have value.

Oh and that little thing about him defeating the darkest wizard in history. That mattered just a bit too.

Harry smiled at that last comment. George was finally relaxing a bit since he stepped though the door. He was pretty sure he hadn't cracked a joke since walking though the door. And that was just all kinds of wrong.

"I could care less, about you liking blokes." Harry tilted his head. "Did you think it would change anything?" George opened his mouth to deny that, but Harry continued. "You shouldn't worry about what other people think of you. It doesn't matter one fig of a difference in the long term. The public is fickle –trust me- you know that."

"Harry," George said, suddenly exasperated. Did Harry think he cared about that? That he gave a damn what people thought of him. Didn't the blatantly mocking of everyone – in authority and otherwise – say nothing about him? Didn't he remember the 'You-Know-Pooh' sign?

Well, he _had_ always been more quiet than Fred. Maybe Harry thought it had been Fred's idea every time, and he just went along with all the plans?

He wasn't sure which idea insulted him more.

"I don't care about the bloody 'public's' opinion." He continued, "To me you're family. The first of my family to know about this. So, sorry if I'm my normally wonderful personality is fraught with nerves. I was worried." He grudgingly admitted.

The emotion in Harry's expression was obvious: shock, happiness, embarrassment, mixed in with a slight tinge of concern. Most likely directed at him. The Wizarding World usually connected homosexuality with suicide.

"T-thank you." Harry finally stuttered, "For counting me as family." He clarified.

"Of course, how could you not be? To me you are family," he reemphasized, after a pause he spoke with a wicked smile spreading over his lips. "Even if you did heartlessly dump my sister."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "It was you sister who got with Dean again. While I was off getting killed trying to get rid of Voldemort." Harry's tone was frigid with ice, and George wasn't sure which he had cringed at, it or Voldie's name. Old habits died hard, even two years after his death.

"WHAT?" George yelped. "That's not what she told us! What happened?"

Harry shrugged. "Like I said, Ginny and Dean got back together. It was before the Great Battle, while Hermione, Ron, and me were searching for a way to kill Voldemort." He paused; George spun his hands trying to make Harry speak.

"A few weeks after the Battle Ginny and Dean came here – told me they were dating. Ginny hoped I wouldn't be mad, that technically we had already broken up. I told her that if she couldn't even wait a year on me then wouldn't have worked out any-way in hell. I said I would pray for their happiness, and basically kicked them out."

Harry paused taking in the shocked expression on his face. "The next thing I know Ron and most of the rest of your family are furious at me, except you and Fred," Harry added. "Come to find out she said that I had broken up with her, and that she and Dean had split."

"And you didn't say any different?! Why didn't you tell them what really happened?" George yelled, furious at his little sister. How dare she lie to them! And about Harry too! His life had been rough enough without her bitching, making it worse. Hell! Over half the family, including her, owed him something: their lives, money, or position.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to make your family split up over me. Not again." He said, George noted his subtle mention of pre-war Percy.

"You've got to tell them. Ginny's always been a bit spoiled, you can't just let her get away with dragging your name though the mud." George said trying to talk some sense into the stubborn mule he called a friend.

"Fine," Harry conceded, with surprising ease.

George smiled softly, getting up, and then sitting back down beside Harry. He wrapped his arms around him giving him a big hug.

"Awh…did you fall for me? Sorry George, I'm straight." Harry said playing with him, grinning.

George grinned back, tightening his grip. "Sorry, you're not my type. When are you going to straighten out the Weasley situation?"

Harry gave what George considered to be a piss poor attempt at a joke. "Can you be straightened out?"

George dropped his hug, and cuffed him on the ear. "Not funny, Boy-Who-Lived-To-Tell-Pitiful-Jokes. Honestly you can't tell a joke to save yourself."

"So when?"

Harry shrugged. "Whenever you come out of the broom closet, mate."

George's face froze, paling. "Please tell me this is one of your bad jokes." He begged.

Harry merely 'hmmmmmed', finishing off his tea. "I can't tell jokes remember." He grabbed a treacle tart, "Not a moment before, George."

**Territerriterriterri**

A loud thud alerted the two inhabitants of No. Twelve Grimmauld Place that their guest had awoken. That and the loud curse from George as he hit his head on the coffee table when he fell off the couch. Harry had only managed to renovate Sirius' and Regulus' rooms so far, for him and Teddy; all guests had to sleep in the living room, on the couch. Along with those bedrooms, all the bathrooms had been fixed up, the kitchen, living room, and parlor. The old house no longer looked like a haven for small annoying pests, and dark magic, like it had in the past. It looked partially decent.

Still muttering and holding his head, George walked into the kitchen at a little past ten in the morning. "Why in Merlin's saggy pants…firewiskey…bloody headache."

Harry looked up smirking from where he was feeding Teddy. The almost two year old had come to live with him a few months back. Pain and grief had driven Andromeda Tonks nee Black to an early grave. She had lost her husband, only child, and son-in-law in less than six months. Her death left Teddy Lupin with no living relatives and Harry Potter in full custody.

"George! Watch your language in front of Teddy!" Harry said, in a fairly good impression of Molly Weasley.

George groaned, taking a seat, putting his hands over his ears. Attempting and failing to block out all noises. "For the love of Light! Harry. Don't sound like my mum so early in the morning." Harry laughed along with a gurgling Teddy. "It's bad for my health!"

The three had a cheerful breakfast ending when George bothered to look at his solid silver, embedded with diamonds, watch that told him he was supposed to have been to the London branch of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Over an hour ago. Really, he was the responsible twin, well…more responsible than Fred at the least.

Most of the time.

Harry walked him to the door with Teddy balanced on his hip. The floo network didn't connect to Number Twelve. Why? Because so many people and reporters had been harassing Harry after the war. He couldn't go into public without a load of glamours on, that was if he didn't want to be surrounded by a mob. He was just too recognizable. And since Harry had always hated traveling anywhere by floo, he had been more than willing to just cut it off, forcing anyone coming to see him to come to the door first, that way he could slam the door in their face if he didn't want them to come in.

It would have been more of a problem if Mrs. Black was still on the wall but Harry had somehow managed to remove the permanent sticking charm. She now terrorized the children of Hogwarts, but she was in a corridor that was rarely used, so not many had to suffer her presence. This had been a pity to Fred and George, who had wanted to put her in the Slytherin dorm, so they had to deal with her crazy arse.

Just off the front steps of the house, George stood waving good-bye to a giggling toddler. "Thanks, Harry," he said a faint pink color tinting his face. He was one of the few Weasleys that didn't just turn red immediately when embarrassed.

Harry smiled in understanding, "It's nothing, don't worry so much. My door is always open if you need someone to talk to."

The red-head smiled widely, before turning on his heel, and disappearing with a pop.

Harry stared a moment at the spot he had disappeared at. A foreboding wind swept through the air, frowning Harry headed inside. Wondering what was going to happen, because he knew something was.

"Where the hell've you been!" was the greeting George got as he apparated straight into his and Fred's flat above their first store. His lips curved down as he turned to face his twin, wondering what on earth had set him off.

Fred stood with his arms crossed, and uncharacteristic scowl on his face. His hair was still short, and his identical brown eyes slanted as he took in George's slovenly appearance. He moved in closer, and George felt like he was towering over him. It wasn't really noticed by most but Fred was a good three inches taller than him, most of it gained in the past two years.

Fred noted the smell of alcohol on him with the scrunching of his nose. "So," he began his tone harsh, "you can go partying the bloody night away, never coming home, but you can't show up for the CEO meeting?"Fred accused, mad that George had stood him up; the CEOs were the both of them. The meeting was nothing serious, just some time they set aside every Saturday so they could come up with new ideas without being bothered. Neither had missed one since they started the business. Until now.

George bristled at the jib. He did feel guilty for missing the meeting, but it was no cause for Fred to accuse of him of anything. The notion that it was a sound accusation, considering his appearance and lingering sent of Firewiskey did nothing to stop him from being offended.

"I wasn't off 'parting the bloody night away'." He said disgruntled. He headed for the bedroom to grab a change of clothes, before going to take a shower.

"Really?" Fred said sardonically following him as he walked, "Where were you then?"

Throwing his pajamas over his towel rod, and slipping off his clothes he replied, "Harry's."

If they weren't twins and close as siblings could be it would have been awkward as hell for him to have stripped and got in the shower with Fred glaring at him, he mused as the hot water hit him. He could sense his brother's presence outside the curtain, and shifted uneasily. Okay with him being attracted to males it was still un-nerving for Fred to watch him naked. Not that he knew that, Fred was perfectly fine with tossing his clothes off in front of him, he even slept naked. He loved Fred, really, he was just exasperating sometimes.

"Harry's?" Then continued with a brighter tone, "How's he? Goodness, I really need to pay our dear investor a visit. He needs a stern talking to about not coming to visit us since breaking it off with our darling sister. He can ignore her all he wants, not us."He added, his tone half serious half joking. He had been upset that Ginny had been jilted, but he liked Harry too much to be really mad at him. Besides not all relationships worked out, everybody knew that. Well…except the rest of the family apparently. Not that she had actually been jilted, he didn't know that though.

George shut off the water and cast a silent, wandless drying spell, then summand his clothes, before exiting the shower fully dress in gray sweatpants and a blue tank –top. "Yeah, you should. I don't think he's been getting much human company lately. Teddy's adorable and all but most toddlers aren't great conversationalists."

Fred's expression turned a fraction towards serious as they walked into the living room/kitchen area. "Quite true, my dearest brother. Breakfast?" He asked, arms sweeping at the food that their house elf, Jinx, had made appear at the table.

"Already ate at Harry's."

Fred glanced at him as he buttered a piece of toast. "_You're_ turning down a second breakfast?" It was a well known fact that both of the Weasley twins could pack in their own weight in food and still want more.

George shrugged, his stomach felt a little bloated, for once eating didn't seem to be the best course of action for him. "Harry cooked a lot for two and a half people." He thought for a moment before adding something he didn't really believe himself, "Plus the firewiskey's made me a little queasy. Think I drank too much."

Fred nodded, accepting his words without question. Suddenly feeling exhausted George sighed and headed downstairs to their workshop at the back of the store. George had discovered a muggle sweet called 'gummy worms' during a trip to muggle London. Finding them funny, he showed Fred some, and they being themselves thought it would be hilarious to make their own and…modify them, so they could be put in the store.

Currently they were debating between two possibilities. The first being that once the worms' box or bag was opened they would race towards everyone in the vicinity and force themselves into their mouth and down their throat, until there were none left. The radius for attack would be about ten feet so that the person setting the worms on their victims would be able to get away. The worms would track down only the people within their range while they had been opened, all others would be safe. The other option was that if picked up the worms would grow until it was ten feet long. It would either be a pranking candy or a treat that would last awhile; good for families who didn't have much. Which one had yet to be determined.

He gathered the charms and potions books they had been looking into so far and dropped them on the large, horribly cluttered desk in the middle of the "Explosive Room", as their employees called it. Most anyone would be surprised that the room was outlined with packed bookshelves.

Well, George though wryly, it's not like either of us has ever been seen with a book. No, correction they had studied that one time during fifth year.

Flipping though a book without really looking at it he thought about his conversation with Harry, or the subject, truthfully. His being gay wasn't his biggest secret. That would actually be acceptable to most people compared to the other he had hidden for years. Only one person in the world knew what it was and he didn't care enough to tell anybody. He did tease George mercilessly about it though, but if anybody else, especially Fred, was to find out...George shuddered to think about it.

It would be his guilty secret till his grave.

Pity, no plan ever worked out like anyone wanted it to.

* * *

**Disclaimer:**

**I don't own Harry Potter and never will. However I do own any O.C's that may or may not show up thoughout the story.**

**Author's Note:**

**Thank ya'll for taking the time to read my story. Please tell me any errors you find, complements you may have, or constructive criticism you think I may need to know. There will be more chapters uploaded, I just don't know when. Thanks again.**

**Rating: I'd say a T for the entire story since there's nothing really grafic.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter** Two:**

The sky was cloudless and stars could be seen clearly. Streetlights dotted a small road that diverged from a night-life bustling main street of London. It was practically an unnoticed alley way, but unlike most the deserted others of its kind many people could be seen coming and going from an old townhouse like building.

This had in fact been a townhouse before the current owner, now of two years, had turned the top three floors into separate apartments to be rented out. The two basement floors had been converted into a club catering to clientele with…specific tastes. The Green Dragon night club was the single reason that this area had turned into the homosexual hotspot in London.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" a man with a blond pony tail nearly yelled after promptly spraying his companion with a gin, water, and spittle mixture. Dropping unexpected information on him wasn't the best idea. He had to yell twice as loud than most would have to get his point across over the loud music.

George took a napkin and wiped his face clean before giving his friend a glance. He wasn't sure if he should be mad for being spit on, or amused at the reaction he had managed to evoke from the normally calm, cool, and collected former member of Slytherin. After thinking of all the occasions he had seen the blond surprised-which wasn't many- he settled on amusement.

"Was that necessary, Draco?"George asked, that amusement shining in his eyes, throwing a mock glare at the other man.

Draco Malfoy, sole heir to the Malfoy fortunes, son of a former Death Eater was sitting in a gay club – which Draco owned and established. A gay muggle club smack in the center of muggle London, and served majority muggles, it was rare for a witch or wizard to grace the door. Sitting next to, and willingly talking to a Weasley. Anyone who knew either of them would kneel over dead at the sight. Even if they managed to survive the shock to tell their tale to anyone, they would be sent directly to St. Mungos for therapy. No questions asked.

Draco ignored his question. "How did Potter find out?" When George responded that Harry had seen him kissing a bloke outside, not that far from the Green Dragon, Draco turned deathly pale. He looked as if he were about to pass out. "Did he see me and you kissing?" Draco asked trying to dredge more information out of him.

George and Draco weren't in a romantic relationship. At all. Strictly platonic there chaps. They hadn't even bothered to attempt one when they had discovered that the other was gay during their shared time at Hogwarts, but they had become sort-of friends while attending. They kept up a casual correspondence of letters, even during the war, but after it ended was when they really became close friends. They met up every other Friday at Draco's club since it had opened, talking about their problems, their families, and their romantic relationships that they couldn't truthfully discuss with any other friends.

Draco was the person that knew his other secret. George had made him give a Wizards Oath never to tell anyone without his explicit permission.

What Draco's fearful question was referring to was the friendly peck at on the corner of their lips they gave each other in greeting when they met outside the club before heading in. Thinking about it now, they really shouldn't do that outside where everyone in all creation could see them. Wait until inside, George decided, the tradition too ingrained to give up completely.

"No," George answered to Draco's immense relief. "Remember that really hot guy I snagged last time?"

Draco smirked visualizing the handsome, clean-cut man with dark brown hair, and dark green eyes. He was the only man they had yet to find –inside the club – that was taller than George's six-three frame. The only people he knew that exceeded him in height, he was related to. See, George was absolutely adamant to never bottom for anyone who was shorter than him; Draco had made him agree that if they ever found someone that met the qualifications he would do it.

It had taken until the Friday before last for a six-foot-four man to walk through the door. Only an inch, but it still counted, George had to honor his agreement. Draco had made sure of that.

"Yes," Draco said, tapping his cheek as he took a sip of his drink, scowling at it. It was a pity he couldn't serve pumpkin juice or firewiskey, but the muggle customers would find it strange, as would the bartender. Even if the request came from the owner. "German businessman, came to check on a branch company before heading back – wasn't it?" George nodded confirmation.

"What was his name?"Draco asked as he tried to recall it.

"The hell if I know." Was George's reply before he took a swig of his Vodka.

Draco snickered. George could never remember any of the names of his one-night stands, but it was just hilarious to him that he couldn't even remember the name of the guy who had taken his bum's virginity.

"Yeah, that guy. Any who, it was during a make-out session between here and the hotel that Harry saw us." George shook his head, remembering the shock of seeing Harry looking directly at him as he pulled back from kissing the handsome German, and looked over his shoulder. Nevertheless the horror of his friend witnessing him basically eating a man's face – as he had heard Harry dub heavy snogging once- didn't deter him from getting shagged into the mattress that night. The panic had set in the next day after saying goodbye to the man, and actually focusing on what Harry had seen. He nearly lost it, to say the least.

"So don't worry your pale head about your crush seeing you kiss one of his friends." George finally concluded, getting a hard smack on the back of his head as a result.

Draco's skin was tinged pink –the darkest shade he could blush- he appeared flustered as he spoke. "What- are you crazy? Crush? What do you mean? He's been my rival –rival- forever! How could you possibly imply otherwise?!"

Goodness they had had this discussion too many times before.

George shrugged, rolling his eyes, as he knocked back the rest of his drink before standing, pulling Draco up with him. "Whatever gets you through the night." Draco was about to continue his yammering, but George didn't allow it. "Let's dance." Giving the blond no choice, he drug him to where the dance floor started –you could trip if you weren't careful, there was a foot drop in the floor- and they soon disappeared into the swaying, swinging, and basically drunk, happy and bustling crowd of dancers.

**Territerriterriterri**

George groaned, rocking back on his heels to stand up, then flushed the vomit filled toilet. After splashing water on his face, his hands griped the edge of the counter. In the mirror he was paler than a Malfoy; circles even darker than Harry had seen surrounded his eyes. He didn't look like hell; he looked like death warmed over.

For the past three days he'd been puking his guts out and hadn't been able to keep anything down. He didn't have a clue what was wrong with him. But today he was going to go to St. Mungos and try to get sorted out.

He wrung his hands. They were trembling, cold, and clammy. God he hoped whatever was wrong wasn't serious. He didn't fancy telling his friends and family he had some terminal illness and was dying. That'd be real fun.

In his room he changed into a pair of black muggle jeans and a loose fitting red button down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. His shoes were black high-tops with little white skulls adorning them. Not thinking he rubbed circles on his stomach, he really wanted to get there, be seen, and go before the next round of vomiting came. He frowned as he noticed that his abs weren't as defined as they normally were. Great he was sick and gaining weight, absolutely perfect.

George's jaw almost hit the floor as the stared at Healer Blinkhorn, "I'm WHAT?!" he asked not entirely sure his ears had been working properly for the past five minutes. He pressed his palms to his ears to rub them, before asking, "I'm sorry could you repeat that? I don't think I heard right."

He had come to the General Illness ward and seen a Healer only to have that Healer run one diagnostic spell. That Healer gave him a shocked look before disappearing and Healer Blinkhorn taking his place. Now he was wondering if Blinkhorn was quite right in the head.

Blinkhorn rolled her brown eyes and shook her head, causing her graying dirty blond hair to fly. "Like I just said. You. Are. Pregnant." She spoke slowly as if she was talking to a small child who had asked the same question five different ways, fifty times.

George felt like he had been stunned, his expression gob-smacked. "B-but," he said frantically, "how is that possible?" He could hear the desperation he voiced.

"I assume you had sex, that's usually how it happens." Blinkhorn said dryly, shrugging.

He glared at her. "Yes, _but_ men aren't built to get pregnant." The last word was practically shouted.

"Some are, actually, you for one." Blinkhorn said, point blank. George got the distinct feeling of someone who got information that shook the very foundation of everything they had ever known, or believed. It wasn't pleasant.

"How come I've never heard of it happening before?" he asked curiously, still trying to make sense of what was going on. Seriously if male pregnancy was possible you'd think it be more common knowledge.

"Probably because it happening is extremely rare." She said as she charmed a quill to jolt something down on a piece of parchment that had appeared. "The last known case was well over two-hundred years ago. Most forgot it was possible over the years, but Healers going into the maternity field have to know about it, just in case." She glanced at her notes and frowned.

"That idiot Jiggins," she muttered, before looking back at him. "Didn't catch your name."

"George Weasley."

She lifted an eyebrow, with a curious expression. "Of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes? Or are you related to the owners?" George replied that he was one of the owners, and she nodded and got her quill to write his name down.

"Due to the rarity of your situation," George frowned at the word, a little offended that she called his being knocked up a 'situation', the diction for that word was negative to him. He didn't say anything, though, because he understood what she meant. "I would like for you to come for a checkup once every week." She handed him the parchment. "This will explain what you should come to expect. At the bottom is a list of foods you shouldn't eat."

George skimmed the list and noted it said specifically "NO ALCHOLIC BEAVERAGE CONSOMTION – MAY LEAD TO BIRTH DEFECTS". Well that wasn't good. He had deduced sensibly that it had been his first time bottoming that had lead to this, so he had had some drinks while carrying.

"I've drank since getting…you know. Has it already affected…anything?" He couldn't say the word baby. It hadn't really hit him that he was about to be a mother and father, he knew that, but he'd rather not have a mental breakdown in front of someone he didn't really know. So he pushed those thoughts out of his head for the moment, dreading when they'd be brought to the surface again.

Her face turned grim, which worried him. That reaction couldn't be good. "We'll have to check to see."

She led him to a dark room with no windows, and asked him to lay down flat on the bed. At her instructions he unbuttoned his shirt so she could rub a cold blue potion on his lower abdomen. Blinkhorn cast a spell and a blue glowing parchment popped up in front of her. She smiled slightly as she read it, and gave him a towel so he could wipe the potion off. "Thankfully the baby hasn't been affected." She said, and then added sternly, "But no more alcohol, understood?"

George nodded his head, buttoning his shirt up. He didn't want any child to suffer because he was being plain stupid, and wouldn't follow instructions. Wow, he'd come a long way from disregarding what he was told, consequences be damned.

"I'm almost positive I already know, but could you tell me how far along I am?"

Healer Blinkhorn glance at his charts, "Friday, February 26th would be the conception date, with today being Thursday, March 25th… a month. You should be starting to show a bit in a few weeks." George asked another question and she replied, "I'd say November 30th will be the due date."

George swallowed hard the next few months were undoubtedly going to be interesting to say the least.

**Territerriterriterri**

Draco Malfoy was surprised to find George Weasley in his parlor pacing. He had come downstairs because Mipsey, his house elf, had alerted him that someone had floo'd in. He was curious since he hadn't had any appointments scheduled, but George was the last person he had expected. They only met on those specific Fridays and never away from the club. He frowned as he approached George, who appeared to be in great distress as he ran his hands through his hair. This couldn't be good.

Draco touched him on the arm and seconds later was in a weeping embrace. Why was he crying? For the next fifteen minutes Draco couldn't get any answers out of the man sobbing into his shoulder. Good thing he lived alone. Wouldn't his parents be interested why a Weasley had come to see him? He was wondering about the reason enough himself.

Finally he was able to get the red-head to calm down enough to stop blubbering, then he asked,

"What the bloody hell happened?"

"I'm never agreeing to anything you try to talk me into ever again."

Well that startled Draco. Was it something he had done that got this as a result? "What are you going on about?"

"I'm bloody PREGNANT!" He yelled thrusting the parchment Healer Blinkhorn had given him at a blankly blinking Malfoy.

Draco skimmed the paper that explained how George was a carrier – a male born that could conceive-, what the symptoms were, and the foods he could and couldn't eat. He duly noted that the conception date matched the day their agreement had come into effect. So that was what the red-head had meant by his earlier statement.

Draco's brilliant response, "Err…congratulations?"

George managed to level a furious glare at him before bursting into tears again.

Draco led him to the couch, making him sit, and plopped down beside him. He threw his arm over the crying man's shoulder, rubbing his arm. "Oh, hush now." Draco said gently, trying to calm him down. "So you're going to be a father –mother too, come to think of it," he really didn't want to think about how that was going to come about. He only knew four points for certain about labor: screaming, pain, blood, and threatening to kill the father if he ever mentions sex again.

"It's not the end of the world," Draco continued, ignoring George's disbelieving look. "Yeah, you'll be a single parent –not like you can track down that guy and tell him you're expecting his kid, he'd lock you in the loony bin-, but you'll have all that family of yours to help you out; your mother will love it. She'll get another grandchild."

George snorted. "Lovely for her. You do realize if I tell any of my family I'm pregnant, it would mean everyone would know I'm gay, right?" Since the Weasley family had always –until Ginny lied- been close to the 'Chosen One' their business always got into the papers. There was no way it would stay within the family for long.

Draco nodded reaching that same conclusion. "You plan to do what – wait until the kid is born? And tell them what? You've adopted? That would probably lead to more questions."

George covered his face with his hands. Why on earth did this have to happen to him? He'd realized he liked guys at fourteen, so young that he'd never even considered if he wanted children before he was aware that the only way he'd ever have any was surrogate or adoption. Never settling down with anyone he hadn't even thought of those options but in passing.

He wished this had happened to some married gay couple that really wanted children, instead of his ungrateful arse. Maybe this would be wonderful in a few years, but right now…

"I don't know. I just don't know."

It was silent for a moment as they both contemplated the situation, finally Draco spoke. "I think you should explain the situation to Potter –let me finish" he said when George was about to protest. "Tell Potter so it won't be just you and me –oh don't give me that look you had to have known I was going to help, so shut it. He'll know what a baby needs –hasn't he looked after that Lupin child you've told me about since he was little?"

George mutely nodded everything Draco was saying did make sense. "You're right."

"Of course," he said smugly, he conjured a newspaper with pictures of houses and other buildings on it. And in response to George's questioning gaze, "Looking for you somewhere to buy. If you're not going to tell your family I assume that includes Fred. It's not like you can live with him for the next eight months without him noticing something."

That's not going to go over with Fred well, was what George thought as Draco asked "Inside London or out in the countryside?"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**I know George's height might not match up with the description in the books. Anyway thanks for reading this, hope you like it. Again all reviews are appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

It was hazy and overcast with fog the next morning as George made his way to Gringotts before dawn. He had gotten up at four then spent the next hour bathroom; throwing up behind a silencing charm. He didn't want to wake Fred up and have him walk in on him hurling. It would lead to questions he didn't care to answer.

He had the feeling that was going to happen, soon, with alarming frequency.

Pulling his hood down further he pasted by Madame Malkins, the Owl Emporium, and many other of the usually most crowded stores in Diagon. The Alley was peaceful this early, and most would appreciate getting down the street without bumping into anyone. He didn't. To him it was eerie, like someone was watching him, or that everyone had left or died off, as if he was the last one alive. He vaguely remembered a muggle movie that had something called a 'ghost town', and could visualize a wad of tumble weed rolling in the breeze.

Nearly on the pure white marble steps of the wizarding bank he, heard a 'pop' then footsteps behind him. Instinctively he clutched his wand in his pocket, preparing for an attack. Again old habits were hard to kill.

Honestly, he was getting to be as bad as Harry; expecting someone to assault him all the time. Here's hoping he wouldn't become as bad as Moody had. Ah, Moody, there'd been a character.

George's hand released his wand as he turned with a smile to find Bill grinning at him as he approached.

"Early shift, Bill?" he asked his brother after sharing a one-armed hug.

"Yeah, Fleur's day off for some 'Mother-Daughter Time', as she said." Bill said, smiling at his prankster brother as they walked to the top of the stairs. "Rather glad I had an excuse to avoid that."

"_Bill_," he said chastising his brother, his tone disbelieving horror, before they started chuckling together.

Suddenly Bill frowned. What had brought George here this early? Business for the shop? No, that couldn't be the twins always worked with each other when their joke shop was involved. Everything else, for that matter, too. His eyes searched around confirming his other brother was nowhere to be seen. Now, that was really strange. It was rare to see George Weasley without Fred Weasley and vise versa.

He threw the twin he did see a suspicious glance. "Is something wrong?" Bill asked.

George groaned inwardly, cursing his bad luck for running into Bill. Bill was probably the most laid back of his siblings (beside Fred and him, of course, they were the kings of nonchalance), but when it came to his younger siblings the eldest tended to become very aggressive, in more ways than one. From their secrets to their fights, Bill wanted to know the nitty-gritty details. Not necessarily a bad thing, unless you were him and had secrets you really didn't want to be known.

Then it was an atrocious hobby.

Giving his best innocent expression –which he knew never really worked- he answered, "No, why do you ask?"

Bill crossed his arms - and George could see how some could see him as intimidating- as he stood in front of the monstrously large Gringotts doors, scares crisscrossing his face. Might be the reason no one hit on Fleur anymore, he mused, he'd never really considered it before.

A goblin stood a little apart from his brother, staring at them like they were guilty, well mostly him. Besides Bill –and Fleur, who still worked at Gringotts even after her internship- any Weasleys were watched carefully when they came near. The same holding true for Harry and Hermione (she was off studying at some muggle college in the U.S. Har-vaard or something like that). The goblins weren't stupid, they were fully aware of who had broken in, released their dragon, and _stolen _something. All of them were lucky the goblins hadn't locked their vaults and confiscated all their money, just being watched like criminals was the least that could have happened.

"Why are you here at this time of the morning, then? Can't be business or Fred'd be here with you. So what is it?" Bill insisted. George sighed.

He knew his brother meant well. Keeping up with six younger siblings couldn't even begin to be described as easy, especially with Fred and him in the mix. He appreciated that his older brother cared so much. He just didn't have time for it at the moment.

At this precise time, he wanted him to bugger off and let him do his business and be done. This had to be done quickly so he could get back before Fred woke up, so he could be seen before heading off again.

George rolled his eyes and elbowed Bill playfully in the side. "Come on Billy-boy. We're not kids anymore. Fred and I don't have to always be attached at the hip." At the words he felt a pang at his heart. He ignored it, not even pausing, continued in his jovial tone and a wink. "Would be on awkward on dates, you know."

Actually they had been on double-dates, and it _had _been awkward. For him. Now-a-days he'd prefer spending the night in a pit with a basilisk, wandless and sword of Gryffindor-less. To seeing some girl, mostly Angelina Johnson these days, crawl all over Fred. Absolutely nauseating, make that two basilisks and all the venomous snakes you could think of in that pit.

It was pick your poison either way.

Bill laughed to hide his surprise. Mentally he couldn't imagine Fred and George without the other. They'd come together and stuck together throughout their lives, he wouldn't even have blinked an eye if they somehow managed leave the world together. It was unnerving to say the least that George had contradicted something he thought of as fact.

George could tell what his brother was thinking, his response to himself: _Welcome to my world, men conceiving –really_ he huffed silently_ talk about mind blowing._

"Okay, Okay, so what are you here for? Anything I can help you with?"

George smiled oddly, his reply a negative. The brothers diverged and Bill went off to his office still suspicious and apprehensive of his brother's peculiar –well more peculiar that usual- behavior. Frowning, he sat down at his desk sighing at the stack of papers there; he hoped George wasn't in any trouble.

George was quickly directed to the goblin in charge of his and Fred's finances, Darfnok. Darfnok lead him to a private office, covered with goblin magic to prevent anyone from eavesdropping or spying. Once they were both sitting George acted like a true Gryffindor. He got straight to the matter he had come for with no hesitation…

He tried to at least. If anybody hadn't noticed goblins had boat loads of money, they were more direct than a Gryffindor when it came to business, but cunning as one from the serpent house when it came to coveting their money.

"You wish to open a vault separate from your brother's, for your future child- is that not correct?"

George could feel his mouth open, gaping stupidly at the goblin, but somehow managing to nod his head in confirmation. "H-how d-did you know I'm going to h-have a c-child." He stuttered out, his arms wrapping his stomach for protection.

Darfnok smiled at him, razor sharp teeth gleaming proudly, in a menacing manor. The goblin tapped his nose, never answering the question.

Merely stating, "We, goblins, more often than not know much more than you wizards think." Now smirking in a way his former potions professor could have admired, he continued, "But a lesson on the ignorance of your kind isn't what you came for, is it? The new vault?"

Shaking his head slightly to clear his mind, he said "Yes, open a new vault under the name T.C.O.G. Weasley, but note that I'm going to change that later." He paused waiting for the goblin show acknowledgement for his statement. Getting an impatient wave of a gnarled hand he continued, "Normal security, along with only two keys to be made, and make it where any of the goblins can open it for anybody specified by me, I'll give you a list some other time."

Darfnok nodded, jolting the instructions down, then looked back at him, his quill still posed to write. "How much would you like transferred into this vault?"

George mentally calculated how much he should need compared to how much was in the account. W.W.W had yielded so much revenue that they were what muggles termed as 'millionaires' only with galleons. Suddenly a thought came to mind, causing him to frown.

His eyes narrowed. "200,000 galleons and I want another thousand converted into muggle money for me today, but I have a question first." Darfnok motioned for him to ask. "Won't, if I just transfer the money, Fred be able to trace where it went to?"

"Yes, that is true," Darfnok confirmed, speaking slowly. "You don't want Mr. Fred Weasley to know of this." It wasn't a question. And George wasn't entirely positive if Darfnok was only referring to the vault.

"No, I don't." was his response to both the spoken question and the implied one.

The goblin sighed, nodding his head while scribbling down the amounts. The paper vanished after he signed it. Moments later George held two vault keys and two pieces paper. One that he had to exchange at a teller at the front of the bank for his muggle money and the other which stated:

**"****T.C.O.G Weasley Vault**

**Galleons: 200,000**

**Sickles: 0**

**Knuts: 0"**

"Mr. Weasley."

Taking his hand off the doorknob, he turned around to look at Darfnok curiously. He had thought the business complete.

"Birth certificates can be withheld from the ministry if they are stored within Gringotts, but Hogwarts will be notified. Though they never really look at the students names unless it's on the muggleborn list. The letters are written by a charmed quill." Darfnok said dismissively.

He was still smiling minutes later as he walked out of the bank with four million muggle pounds. Who knew goblins could be so helpful despite all those damned rebellions they had started, which ultimately lead to a slow death by torture sitting through History of Magic, listening to those said rebellions. He surely hadn't.

**Territerriterriterri**

Harry James Potter looked as if Teddy being in his arms was the only thing that kept him from kneeling over in a dead faint.

His brain just refused -no it couldn't- comprehend the words he had just been told. Maybe it had twisted the words until what he had understood to be said wasn't actually what _was_ said.

Harry's eyes flashed from George to Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. What the bloody hell was he even doing here in his house? And with George? Why weren't they punching each other, or hexing in Malfoy's case, bloody ponce never learned to throw a punch, or 'muggle fighting' as others called it. That was another thing his already fried brain wasn't taking well. What was going on? Were they friends? The hell! They seemed to be. Maybe he should stop wondering about it and just ask already.

His head was spinning with confused thoughts, and he could feel a migraine coming one. Running a hand that wasn't steadying Teddy through his hair in an attempt to calm himself, he decided to take his advice. Ask already. "I'm sorry, George, could you repeat that? I think I misheard you."

George chuckled, it was a despairing sound, with a strained smile. "That was basically my reaction, just now, in a nutshell. Though," he said tilting his head, "I'm positive my language was more colorful."

Draco could tell by his words that he was procrastinating. His normal Gryffindor-self would have just bluntly repeated himself. He could tell George really didn't want to say it again. Fine, he'd solve the problem for him.

Draco pulled his best sneer at the raven haired man. "Weren't you listening? If your attention span is that short it's no wonder you were pathetic in school." Surprisingly Potter didn't get angry at his goading, apparently he knew he was going tell him what he wanted to know.

"He said he's pregnant, you imbecile." He obliged. He handed Potter the parchment George had gotten from Healer Blinkhorn.

Harry's expression made him look as if he had been decked in the face. George fidgeted nervously in his seat as Harry collected himself enough to read the paper.

He eyed the signature and official seal carefully. Making sure it was real and not one of the Weasley twins pranks, though he had no idea why Malfoy would be involved on it if it was. It was authentic. Bloody hell.

He closed his eyes for a moment taking in deep breaths, opening his eyes he focused in on George. "How is that possible?"

"Getting knocked up? Sex obviously, Potter." Draco said scathingly. Harry promptly ignored him. Draco seemed to be like a little boy on the school playground: always being mean to the girl he liked the most, Harry Potter in this case.

George bit his lip, in an un-George-like manner. "From what I've understood it's an extremely rare occurrence. Thousand years ago, or so, there had, apparently, been a shortage of females. So the pureblood extremists during that time found away to make it were a few select men, the ones who hadn't got married –and refused to consider muggles, muggleborns, or even half-bloods- could have children. With each other."

Draco picked up the story here, "Not all the men who were subjected to the spell, ritual, or potion –we're really not sure which it was- were able to conceive, they had to have something that made them genetically compatible with the process. Or so they've concluded. Anyway they were only able to have male children. The male decedents of those purebloods born from that first experiment, a few have had to have the ability to bear children, but only if their genetics matched up." He concluded.

Harry nodded his head, understanding yet completely bewildered all the same. Those ancient purebloods must have been mental, along with those fools who agreed to that. "So the Weasleys are from those madmen's line?"

George shrugged while Draco said dryly, "That seems to be the case."

Silence filled the room each man concerned with their own thoughts, Teddy was the only one moving as he wiggled to get down. Harry obliged and watched him totter off, then his eyes darted back and forth between the others, finally clearing his throat "Ah, so… you two are…"Harry tried to ask, not quite sure how.

Draco's brow puckered, not understanding what Potter was getting at. He turned to look at George as he started to make chocking sounds, his widened.

Then he rounded on Harry. "Me and him-how could you possibly think- HELL NO!" Draco managed, crossed between embarrassment and indignation.

Harry let out a sigh of relief; his shoulders visibly became less tense. "Good, that'd been just plain weird." George snorted, like it wasn't already. Harry turned to him noticing he had finally stopped hacking. "Anything you need I'll be glad to help."

George nodded, taking a sip of pumpkin juice, "I'll need help knowing what things babies need." Draco added, "You can also come house hunting with us. A third opinion is always good when making a big purchase."

Harry's eyebrows shot up, until they were invisible under his bangs. "You're moving out of your flat? Why do that?" His tone was full of stunned surprise. Why on Earth would George move out? Wouldn't having Fred close at hand while the baby was on the way be good and welcome help? He was more likely help than Malfoy. Harry's eyes narrowed at them again, he'd have to hear that story sometime.

George shifted uncomfortably, "If I stay with Fred, he'll notice something's wrong. Questions will be raised, then everyone will know I'm gay, single, and pregnant on top of that. I really don't need that."

At George's words, realization struck Harry like a bolt of lightning. He was surprised his hair didn't stand on end. His voice was low, disbelieving, as he spoke, "You mean _Fred_ doesn't even know you're gay?"

George shrugged. "I told you, you are the first of my family to know about it." Suddenly grinning, he shook his finger, tutting, "Harry, Harry, Harry don't you listen to a word I say? That is most impolite."

"But Fred-" Harry protested.

"Doesn't know." He said seriously. "Nor does he need to." His tone didn't allow for any contradiction.

All conversation came to a stand-still for a moment and Harry's brain was racing, though numbed a little by shock. Fred was George's twin, the closest of the Weasley siblings. It had only been recently that he had seen one without the other. 'The Weasley twins', 'Fred and George', 'Gred and Forge', they were a package deal; you didn't have one without the other. They shared a room, a dream, ideas and sentences. But now…it was if Armageddon had arrived in full force.

Draco stood abruptly, disrupting the thoughtful stillness of the room, "Come on let's go terrorize the muggle real estate agents."

For some reason or another there weren't any wizarding real estate companies. People either inherited or got property through the ministry –who bought it from muggles- or Gringotts. Gringotts had sold its last property more than forty years ago. It just proved that the occupants of the magical community didn't move much, or they just built their own houses in hidden places, never selling even if they didn't live there anymore.

For example the Burrow had been in the Weasley family since the thirteenth century, but not until the last hundred years had it been a permanent home. It had been a vacation cottage.

George rose to stand beside Draco and watched as Harry walked over to him. Harry pulled him into a hug. "It may not look like it, but you'll see. It'll all work out."

George grinned. "Yeah," he said, in mock solemnly, "House shopping with an extravagant

Slytherin ponce and a Gryffindor who has no taste. What am I getting myself into?" he joked though fully understanding what Harry had meant.

Harry lightly smacked him on the head and Draco scowled at him, his eyes laughing.

After Harry retrieved Teddy –who had accidently turned everything in his room pink, including his hair- and they changed into muggle clothing, they were out the door and gone.

**Territerriterriterri**

In the center of old London the streets were cobblestone hundreds of years old, and large trees, firmly rooted over the years gave the Victorian style houses and the area surrounding them a tranquil air and the feeling of nostalgia for horse carriages. A time before technology and pollution from automobiles.

Inside one of these timeless building a sandy haired man's golden brown eyes took in the three men who had just become his new clients. Well client, only one was on the search for a house, so he had been informed; the other two were just along to help. He withheld a moan, whenever someone brought friends they were usually a pain in the butt, his particularly.

The pale blond looked around his office in distain before sitting down in front of the desk. He had an air of superiority around him, like he was disgusted to even be here. God, please don't let that man be his client, seeing his pressed black slacks and dark gray dress shirt, he could tell the blond would be one hell of a picky customer. The man with the black hair was curious. He was wearing simple blue jeans and an emerald green light pull over, and he was carrying… a baby with pink hair? That was odd. Didn't the man know that dyes could affect the brain at that early an age? But he could tell that this man would be much easier to find a house for.

The last was a red long haired man who looked oddly familiar. He had an easy grin on his face as he strolled leisurely into the room, wearing bright red skinny jeans that were in style these days and a black t-shirt with the word "Psycho" on it in big white letters. He couldn't really get a feel for what type of customer he was.

Great so his options were: a stuck up prick, Mr. Keep-it-simple, and an unknown. Well he'd always loved a challenge.

He smiled professionally and stuck his hand out to shake the blonde's hand, as he was the closest and acted like the leader of the trio. "Leon Matthews." He said as the blond reluctantly shook his hand, quickly releasing it as if it were a snake. He managed to keep his smile as he waved at the pink haired child. "Which one of you is looking to buy a house?"

"That would be George. I'm Harry Potter, by the way, and this it Teddy Lupin." Answered the much more helpful black haired man, introducing himself and the child. That name did sound familiar to him, though he couldn't remember where.

At his questioning glance the blond stuck out his chin, "_I'm_ Draco Malfoy. The one with the red hair's George."

Said man shook his hand grinning, with amusement in his brown eyes, "Guilty as charged. I'm George, George Weasley. Great meeting you Mr. Matthews, but please call me George"

Weasley? _George Weasley?_ Hadn't Charlie mentioned having a little brother named that? Thinking back he remembered the picture of his boyfriend's family he had seen; there had been two boys that looked exactly like the man in front of him. Must be him, Weasley wasn't exactly a common last name. Best make a good first impression, he thought wondering why Charlie hadn't told him his brother was searching for a house.

Maybe the other two men were wizards as well, that might explain the pink haired kid. It also explained why the name 'Harry Potter' was familiar to him; Charlie must have mentioned him at one point or another.

"As long as you call me Leon."

George grin widened, "Wouldn't have it any other way, Leon."

"Good. Now," he said as he opened a drawer and pulled out a notepad along with a pen. He almost grabbed one of the quills Charlie had given him, but decided against it. "What are you looking for exactly? Your must have's in a house?"

George leaned back in his seat and his eyes focused in on the ceiling. He raised his hand and began counting off his mental list finger by finger. "Must be within a forty mile radius of London, I don't care if it needs some renovating." Leon nodded writing it down as he heard it.

With some of the older homes it was good if you didn't mind some projects. "A lot of land surrounded by trees would be good, but the house and the land have to be child friendly, that's a deal breaker."

Leon looked up at him. That was a strange request from someone the age of the man sitting before him. "Do you have children?" he asked eyeing the pink haired child curiously.

George looked at him with an odd look in his eyes, but he laughed nevertheless. He ruffled the child's pink hair as he spoke, "No, Teddy here's not mine, I have four nieces though, and I'm expecting to have a child over at some time or another. I just made child-proof a requirement so any of the parents won't have reason to kill me when they're over." At his words Leon had the feeling that there was some double meaning that he just wasn't getting.

"Smart idea. Anything else, George?"

"A lot of rooms, as many as possible in fact." He said grinning. "I'm one of seven so I have to have a lot of room for when my family comes over, along with their kids." Still his voice was off, or Leon could have just imagined it, but he didn't really believe that.

"Of course." Leon said smiling as he continued to write. "Now lastly and most importantly might I add. What is your budget?"

"Four million pounds."

Leon just about fell out of his chair.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Okay, might be a while before I post again due to the fact I've only got one more chapter that is typed up already. NOTE: I am a really slow typer so it is the thing I hate the most about writing( I bame the evil computer teachers I've had over the years that made us type a ton of useless nonsense). Thank all of you who are reading this, please tell me if you spot any errors or inconsistencies throughout the chapters.**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Congratulations All High School and College Graduates of 2013!**_

**If anyone is wondering I'm posting this today in way of celebrating my brother's high school graduation tomorrow. Not that he knows about me posting this, in fact I'd die from shock if he read this of his own vocation considering he doesn't read outside mandatory requirements, that and he wouldn't read this type of work anyway. Anyway ya'll get a treat for him making it through twelve years of school, enjoy on his behalf.**

* * *

**Chapter Four:**

George shot a dark glare at the glass of water in his hand. Water. He was drinking_ water_. At a dance club. Something was officially wrong with the world. More wrong than normal, that was.

Well, the good news was the house search was over and it hadn't lasted long. Thank god for that. Over the previous twenty-four hours he'd been subjected to listening to Draco criticize everything. Literally _everything_: the floors, the location, how small it was, it was too big, the garden was too ornate, the yard didn't have any shrubs, those neighbors were looking at him funny, those neighbors ignored him. Those were just a few of the hundreds of complaints he had heard. After the first two houses he couldn't even remember why he was friends with the git, much less why he had brought him along.

Harry, on the other hand, had been practically useless on the endeavor. He didn't give any opinion other than "looks nice". They had heard it to a point that Leon finally commented in exasperation and frustration "with these houses in the millions of pounds, I sure hope they're _nice._" Thankfully Harry and Draco had been out of range at time and hadn't overheard it. Wouldn't have turned out pretty for Leon otherwise, the only reason George hadn't flown off the handle at the remark was because the same had been on his mind.

Teddy had been the one to finally be of any use at all. The little tot with this bright pink hair had sent a series of blue and silver sparks into the air at the twelfth house they had seen yesterday, before they even went in it (thankfully Leon had been digging through his car for the keys to the house, and didn't see it). The house was perfect. George had signed the contract to Rathlea this very morning; however, it would be a month before he could move in it. Turned out muggle procedures were about on par with wizarding ones when it came to how readily things were accomplished.

Horribly slow. Really, a turtle could get around faster.

His foot tapped along to the beat of the pounding music, as he tried to locate platinum blond hair in the mob of bodies on the dance floor. The flashing lights made it quite difficult, what with the different tinges it cast upon the people.

"What's with the water?"

George turned to see the barman, Tony, looking oddly at his drink. Tony had worked there since the Green Dragon opened, his shaven head and sympathetic ear was a permanent fixture. It was like the Leaky Cauldron and Tom, if the barman wasn't there neither place was the same.

George was remorseful as he answered, "No alcohol, Doctor's orders." He wasn't an alcoholic, dependent on the substance or anything else like it. He just liked to drink when he wanted to.

And at the moment he couldn't.

"Oh, tough luck, mate. Medical issues?"

"More or less."

Tony nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that." Then his expression turned puzzled. "Why'd Boss drag you here then? By the way where is that blond prat?" he asked looking around.

Another plus in Tony's favor –at least how he looked at it- was that the man wasn't afraid to insult his boss. The guy had spunk.

He gestured his arm to the dance floor in a sweeping motion. "Out there somewhere." He paused, then spoke slowly as if contemplating the weight of each word. "This is –it will be awhile before I come back here again."

Tony looked surprised by this new information, which was no surprise at all. He had been coming here every other Friday for two years after all. "Why? Is something wrong?"

He took a sip of water, allowing himself to think about his response. "No, nothing's wrong. I'm moving, that's all." He said, saying the truth but in an entirely different context.

"Where to?"

"Not really far, actually. About twenty miles away, but I don't want to have travel that far to come here all the time."

Tony made a noise of understanding, then that conversation was closed, so they pressed onto another topic.

"Are you going to defend your title one last time, or not bother with it?" the barman asked him.

George grinned. "Yeah, I think I will. One last go to show up all those sorry bums." Tony chuckled and sent a message to the DJ on some elektroneec muggle thing-a-ma-bob that Author Weasley would have loved to taken apart.

The karaoke competition was where club members could sing to compete with one another. It was held every other Friday (incidentally it happened on the rotation that Draco and George came). You signed up beforehand, and no more than twenty people were allowed to participate at a time. The two would then compete by singing a song of their opponents choosing; the crowd would cheer for who they believed to have sung or preformed the best. If you competed regularly your scores would be added up and the one with the highest score could become the 'Karaoke Champion', though the point system had never been used for that.

The winning competitor of the night would challenge the champion for the title. The point system was just a backup plan in case the actual champion stopped coming and no one had beaten them; since they would need a new champion to compete.

George had held the title since the Green Dragon had been open and he was a little sad to have to give up his title. Come on buck up, he told himself sternly, you know it doesn't really mean anything. He should just be proud that no one had ever defeated him, he was relinquishing the title not losing it.

No one ever said being pregnant was easy. He didn't even know how hard it was going to get.

**Territerriterriterriterri**

Charlie Weasley apparated into a small, dark, and dingy alleyway. He walked to an innocent looking town house and smirked at the knowledge it was an underground club, with an apartment façade, like Leon had said.

He quickly descended down the stairs, wondering how in the name of Merlin did the neighbors _not _know that the place was a club. Music blaring, loud enough to be heard outside greeted him, yet it had been completely silent until he had opened the door. A suspicious feeling swam over him, but he pushed it aside as he saw his sandy haired boyfriend of three years waving at him from a booth, sitting with two people he did not know.

Charlie walked over smiling. He and Leon had meet while he had been in a club similar to this one in a muggle part of Romania. They had hit it off immediately, and had been dating barely two days later. Leon had been on vacation time so it became a long distance relationship, which despite all allegations that it would fail, survived. Now Charlie had finally been convinced to move back to London, and at the moment he couldn't find a single argument against it. He was going to miss his dragons, but Leon was more than worth it.

As proof of the seriousness of their relationship, Charlie had told him about magic and the wizarding world. It wasn't something to be taken lightly and thankfully Leon had understood that and had been touched by the trust Charlie had displayed. That had been the nail in the coffin so to speak, the main prompt for his returning to England. He was going to inform his family next week at the twins' birthday party, that and he was gay with a serious partner…who his mother was probably going to demand a meeting with. He could already imagine the heckling the twins were going to give him… the prats.

He sighed inwardly. There was no way he was going to introduce Leon to his family until he was certain how they would treat him. Most likely, they would instantly take him in as one of their own, but he wasn't positive. He could still remember all the backhanded remarks his mum had said about Fleur when she and Bill got hitched, and she was a _she._ He hadn't exactly ever had an in depth discussion with his family about their opinions on homosexuals after all.

"Leon," he stated as he gave his boyfriend a peck on the cheek, sitting down in the booth beside him.

"Charlie," said Leon, with a smile lighting up his face. He turned to his friend, excited to finally be able to introduce his lover to them. "Alex, Sam, this is Charlie Weasley. My boyfriend if you haven't noticed."

The shorter of the two brunettes gave him a mock startled look, "What? Really? And all this time you let me think whoever could kiss you whenever?"

That one was pushed lightly on the arm by the other, rolling his eyes, "Ignore him, that's what I do. Anyway I'm Alex Jones, good to finally meet you."

"Yeah, I was starting to wonder if you really existed, or if it was just an excuse so we couldn't set Leon up with anyone. He _still_ doesn't trust our decision on anything after we set him up on a blind date. I mean, come on, that was four years ago, let it go man!" the man who was apparently 'Sam' blathered on.

Alex silently wrapped he arm around Sam's head and placed his hand over Sam's mouth, finally stopping the sounds coming from his mouth. Leon sent Charlie a "I'm really sorry about him, but he's a friend, what can you do?" look and shrug, Charlie just shook his head, silently laughing.

Rolling his eyes at his hyperactive friend, Alex introduced him. "Sorry about this prancing fool it's hard to shut him up. He's Sam Ridgeway, by the way."

"It's fine." Charlie said smiling. "And thanks for inviting me, been awhile since I was last in a club." It was Leon's friends who had the membership at the Green Dragon, and they had invited him solely because they wanted to finally meet the guy that made Leon not step into the club since its opening.

"No problem," Alex said, refraining from making an annoyed face. Sam was currently licking his palm trying to make him remove his hand. "So, what did you do in Romania?"

"I worked with wild animals on a private, government owned, reserve." Charlie answered. He very well couldn't say dragons, now could he?

"Cool. Where are you originally from? From what I've gathered it's not Romania. Have any family here?" Alex asked trying to assess his friend's boyfriend, to determine whether or not he was good enough for Leon. So far he appeared up to snuff.

Charlie's smile widened at the question, but strangely Leon groaned, popping his hand against his forehead. At three quizzical glances he said, "I just remembered something that's all. Go on, answer Alex first, I'll tell you in a bit."

"Okay," Charlie said slowly drawling out the word, then picking up his upbeat tone again.

"I've got a right ton of family here, as a matter of fact, my parents, five brothers, and sister. I haven't told them I'm coming back yet, it's a surprise, and I can't wait to see their expressions." He chuckled at the image in his head at their reactions. "Mum might be happier about this then when Bill returned from Egypt, as I've been gone longer." He mused.

Alex's mouth gaped open and in his surprise let his hand drop from Sam's mouth who said loudly. "Damn! Your one of –what- seven? Seriously?"

"That's right," he said amused by their reactions. "Bill's the eldest, I'm second, Percy's third, Fred and George –the twins- are fourth and fifth –I'm not sure which is the oldest, though" he pondered for a moment, wondering if even mum knew the answer to that, with how distracting they had been coming into the world and ever since. "Ron's sixth, and lastly is Ginny, the youngest and only girl out of all of us."

Alex whistled. "Must be a pain around Christmas, picking out all those presents."

"It's certainly interesting, I'll give you that." He said, thinking of some of the more…original gifts the twins had sent him over the years. "The bright side is: it means you get more presents."

"Now what were you going to say, Leon?"

All eyes focused in on the sandy haired man. "I met one of your brothers. George, I believe."

That surprised him. "Are you sure?"

Leon gave him a sharp look. "It had to be. Weasley isn't exactly a common name, you know. That and the fact I remember him from one of the pictures you showed me."

"How'd you meet him?"Alex asked curious.

"Funnily enough, he just walked in my office yesterday."

"Your office." Charlie repeated, his brow puckered. "He's looking to buy a house?" That was weird, neither Fred nor George, or anybody for that matter told him that the twins were moving out of their flat. What about the shop? "You said you met George, wasn't Fred with him?"

"He's bought a house." Leon corrected immediately, thinking of the contract he had sent to the owners this morning and received a positive confirmation for. It wasn't everyday that a three point four million house was bought after all. The collected three around him were surprised, he could tell. He continued, "And no, he was the only Weasley in the bunch."

"The bunch? Who was he with?" Things just kept getting more and more strange.

Leon had no trouble at all recalling all the names. "A guy named Harry Potter and a little kid named Teddy Lupin." He decided not to mention the pink hair part. "Do you know what that was about?"

"Teddy's parents died and Harry's his godfather, so he took him in." Charlie answered, stating only the basic facts.

Leon hummed. "And this blond prick, Draco Malfoy- Hey what's wrong?" Leon asked Charlie who had about chocked on his drink, sputtering.

"Draco Malfoy? Are you sure?" Leon nodded. "What the hell!"

"Why? What's up with this Malfoy bloke –besides Leon dubbing him as a prick." Sam asked, in his loud tone.

"An arrogant prick." Leon elaborated.

"Technically? Nothing. I don't know him personally, but his reputation precedes him. He was in school after I left so I heard from my siblings; he's rich, arrogant –think we've covered that flaw already-, and thinks that anyone who isn't up to his standards, needs to vanish off the face of the planet."

Leon snorted. That was obvious from just speaking to the guy. "So I noticed when he marked a house off the list just because the tiles were crooked by one centimeter. One bloody centimeter! The git even got out a tape measure and checked it." That had really irritated him.

Alex and Sam shared a look of disbelief, while Charlie looked resigned to the craziness of all Malfoys. "I just have a hard time believing that Malfoy and Harry were hunting for houses together, much less with my brother. Malfoy and Harry hated each other in school, from what I've heard."

Charlie turned to look at Leon. "Are you absolutely positive it was my brother?" He sounded almost desperate.

Leon sighed, a bit cross that Charlie seemed to refuse his words. "Yes I'm sure. He had shoulder length red hair – the same shade as yours- and looked exactly like he did in the picture you showed me, and he introduced himself as George Weasley." The words came out in a half-hearted huff.

Charlie's shoulders slumped in resignation. That did sound like his brother, but what was he doing with Malfoy, house shopping nonetheless.

"Hey, look over there guys, the Karaoke Competition is starting, let's watch." Alex said, carefully turning the subject further from Leon's boyfriend's family.

"Really?" Sam squealed turning his head so sharply to look that he should have broken something. "I absolutely love it, the King is totally hot."

"The king? Karaoke Competition? What's this all about?" Leon asked genuinely intrigued.

"Oh, it's really fun, you'll see. Round twenty people compete in a karaoke contest, and the one left at the end gets to challenge the King." Sam said giving a general, but not too informational, analysis.

Alex rolled his eyes then continued to explain more in depth. "It's a one on one, and whoever the crowd likes the most will proceed to the next competitor until on the King is left. Then they will challenge the King – who is the one who won in the previous competition – and if the competitor beats the King they win the title of Champion."

"Wait isn't the title 'King'? That's what both of you were calling him." Leon said.

Sam rolled his eyes, but was smiling and nearly bouncing on his seat as he watched the first round. "Everyone calls him King; one because we don't know his name and two because he's earned it. He's never once lost a Karaoke Competition."

Alex snorted amused. "I'm pretty sure even if he did lose people would still call him King. He's got quite the reputation around here."

They watched as the competition progressed, cheering for whoever caught their favor until a better person appeared; then they switched. Finally the winning competitor sang a very good rendition of 'Moves Like Jaggar' by Maroon Five. His voice was good, which was what had gotten him this far, but he just stood there on stage in the middle of the dance floor. Very boring performance, good, yet still boring. The people cheered but they obviously didn't cheer as loudly as they could have.

People began to scream at the top of their lungs as the lights dimmed, while one spotlight focused on a single point on the center of the stage. It was instantly silent as the sounds of footfalls resounded across the floor. A tall, thin, but muscular man appeared under the spotlight with long red hair covering his face as he had it facing the floor. He grabbed the microphone off its stand and handed the stand to the DJ, who was smiling like he was in the best position in the world, and couldn't possibly imagine any better.

Then an upbeat tune started up and the man tied his hair back in a sideways bun that covered his right ear, his face still bowed.

The proper start for the lyrics to begin came and he lifted his head with a grin.

_Well, it's midnight, damn right, we're wound up too tight_

_I've got a fist full of whiskey, the bottle just bit me_

_Oh, that shit makes me bat shit crazy_

_We've got no fear, no doubt, all in balls out_

Damn! What the hell was George doing here! Charlie could feel his jaw gaping wide open.

_We're going off tonight to kick out every light_

_Take anything we want, drink everything in sight_

_We're going till the world stops turning_

_While we burn it to the ground tonight_

He watched as his brother sang –amazingly well, he hadn't even known George could sing, much less was really good. Suddenly George was dancing on stage and hopping around. If their mother ever saw how George was dancing she would pass out, that or need psychological therapy.

_We're screaming like demons, swinging from the ceiling_

_I got a fist full of fifties, tequila just hit me_

_Oh, we got no class, no taste, no shirt, and shit faced_

_We got it all lined up, shot down, firing back straight crown_

He jumped off stage and stared dancing along with the crowd. George weaved in and out, around the bodies, smiling in a manner Charlie had never seen before.

_We're going off tonight to kick out every light_

_Take anything we want, drink everything in sight_

_We're going till the world stops turning_

_While we burn it to the ground tonight_

At a break in the lyrics a guy who had been dancing close to his brother, drew George in. Charlie watched in horror as his little brother sloppily kissed the other man, with a sultry look on his face that Charlie hoped he'd never again have to see on any of his siblings.

_Ticking like a time bomb, drinking till the night's gone_

_Well, get your hands off of this glass, last call my ass_

_Well, no chain, no lock, and this train won't stop _

_We got no friends, no doubt, all in, balls out_

George pulled away from the bloke he had been making out with, and Charlie was mentally wondering if he should go over and punch the guy because of the feral look he was giving his brother.

Leon leaned over and ear. "Isn't that…?"

"Yep." He responded shortly still in shock of what he was and had been witnessing. He hadn't even thought George was interested in guys. 'George' and 'liking guys' had never crossed his mind simultaneously before. Well, no one in the family knew about him either –for now at least- but George had dated girls before with the family's knowledge. Charlie hadn't, so they should have at least suspected something about him. George hadn't let on at all. He had to applaud those acting skills.

Leon leaned over once more. "I didn't know…" he trailed off yet again.

Charlie shook his head, "Neither did I. This might explain why George decided to move out, though."

Leon nodded mutely, staring fascinated at his client go through another set of dance moves that could be lightly described as sensual. Lightly. "Are you going to talk to him? Tell him that you know?"

"At the twin's birthday party next week."

"Isn't that when you planned to tell your family about us?"

"Yes, knowing this about George makes telling them easier." Leon shot his boyfriend a questioning look, prying his eyes away from the other red head. Charlie clarified, "Knowing that at least one person in my family won't be against us."

**Territerriterriterri**

"Was that really necessary?" George asked, mock glaring at his brother in the mirror as he brushed his teeth.

Fred grinned unrepentantly. "You know that we must awaken early on the auspicious day of our glorious birth, dear brother. I did you a great service by completing that most sacred tradition." Fred explained pompously, sounding awfully like Percy.

George's grimace couldn't be seen because of the amount of purple toothpaste foam around his mouth. He fixed his expression and cleaned up before turning to his brother, and spoke just as uppity as he had.

"Oh, yes, I must thank you dearly for upholding that tradition that reaches the utmost importance, illustrious brother."

"Of course." Fred sniffed.

They both burst out laughing.

He hadn't really minded Fred waking him up before dawn's light even tinted the horizon. It was the _way_ he woke him up that had aggravated him. Fred had jumped directly on him, and he had barely had enough time to prevent him from landing directly on his stomach. George was no Healer but he was pretty positive that a full grown man belly flopping on a baby was not good for its development. But hey that was just his notion.

He didn't want anything to happen to the kid he was carrying. Maybe it was some maternal instinct (that sounded strange to say even in his head) kicking in already. He didn't know and it didn't matter. He would be furious if anyone caused something to happen to the baby. Even if it was Fred.

After they finished joking around they returned to their rooms and got dressed and ready before heading to the Burrow.

He exited the roaring green fire, nearly falling on his face, but just managing to right himself in time. Dusting himself off he looked around the room. In all his years the furniture and knickknacks had always been the same. The only changes that had been made were that some

pictures had been added.

There was a large picture of Bill and Fleur at their wedding, as well as a large one of Percy and Audrey at theirs. He had never understood how that carefree all-American witch had gotten herself stuck with Percy. _Percy_, now. Yeah, he had lightened up after the war, but he was still Percy; a complete and utter stickler for the rules and following procedures.

On each side of those pictures were smaller frames of their respective kids. Two beautiful, platinum blond, giggling little girls were beside Bill's picture on each side. Victoria, the eldest was now two years old like Teddy, and was already proving to be as gorgeous as her mother, as was the one year old, Dominique. (He might not be attracted to women, but anyone could appreciate beauty for what it was.) But what else could be expected from veela blood.

Percy's frame only had one picture beside it, but there were two babies inhabiting it. Molly and Lucy, twin girls only a few months old, who obviously had inherited the Weasley genes. He had found it ironic that Percy and Audrey had had twins.

Now normally George wouldn't have paid these pictures the slightest attention.

But normally he wasn't hormonal and pregnant. He looked at the pictures almost fearfully.

Soon he would have one of those tiny, fragile creatures he saw his older brothers and their wives carrying around.

Damn it, he thought frantically but managing to keep his outward appearance its expected jovial self. It would be just him with a kid. Alone. Yeah, he would have Draco and Harry's help, but they had lives of their own. They couldn't live with him and help him out forever, and he wouldn't allow it even if they offered.

I don't want this. I don't want the baby.

He acknowledged the small voice in his head. It was the undeniable truth and he was racked with pain and guilt at the admittance.

What the hell was he going to do.

**Territerriterriterri**

"George, can I talk to you for a moment?" Charlie asked.

George nodded and followed Charlie over to a secluded spot, away from the rest of the family where they were playing with the four little girls.

The entire family had been pleasantly surprised when Charlie had turned up from Romania. He usually only came over for Christmas, and rarely even then, he hadn't come home for anyone's specific birthday in awhile; it made George think that something was up that they didn't know about.

Charlie cast a spell to keep out eavesdropping, which caused George's eye to narrow with suspicion. Okay, something was definitely up.

He didn't have long to wonder, Charlie had always been known for that Gryffindor directness.

"Listen, I know you're gay, so am I. I saw you the other day when I went to meet some friends at the Green Dragon." Then he added, "Never knew you were such a good singer."

George immediately stiffened, his face losing all its color. Charlie knew he was gay. A member of his family knew a dark secret of his. Not that bad in retrospect considering Charlie had just admitted he was also of the same persuasion. But – oh god- Charlie had seen him at karaoke night last Friday. His older brother had basically witnessed him acting like a complete and total man slut. His face swiftly morphed from paler than parchment to bright tomato red.

Then George did the sensible thing that anyone in his position would do, upon finding themselves so embarrassed and mortified that they could die.

He fainted.

Luckily Charlie caught him before he hit the ground.

Well that went well I think, was Charlie's thought as he carried his unconscious brother inside before meeting to tell the rest of the family his news.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own the song. It is 'Burn it to the ground' by Nickelback

**Author's** Note:

Sorry it took a while to get this chapter out, I thought I had it typed up and finished, but no, I had forgotten the song lyrics. Anyway chapter five will be out when I get around to it.

As always reviews and comments are appreciated.

**Hermione Jean Potter: **Responding to your review because it is the only one with a question (everyone else I really do love hearing what you say even if its just requesting the next chapter). Anyway as to your question: No, at the moment I have no intention of putting Harry with George. I sort of know how I want George's love life to play out but no definite plans, but Harry isn't in them unless something changes my mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I am not a docter, have never taken a human growth and development class, nor have I ever been pregnant so if there is anything glaringly wrong with what I wrote concerning that please inform me of it. Thanks for all the reviews and I hope ya'll enjoy this chapter.**

**Chapter Five:**

George finished putting the last of his clothes in his suit case before sending it to Rathlea with Trix; he had only left a few outfits in his closet to last him until he left. Glancing around one more time to make sure he hadn't forgotten to pack any of his books, he then went in search of Fred.

Though it couldn't really be considered a search when he found his brother just lounging around on the couch watching TV.

Fred looked up from the moving picture box and grinned at him. "I can't believe you fainted when Charlie told you the news." George couldn't believe Fred was still going on about it three weeks after the fact, maybe it was especially funny this time to Fred, however, it was most certainly not for him.

"I was surprised." He said, yet again defending himself though that wasn't the real reason he passed out. He closed his eyes and remembered the moment, nearly shuddering from the pure horror the situation had induced.

"So were the rest of us, but we didn't faint", Fred pointed out much to his irritation.

"Mum nearly did." Was his response once again, his tone still as petulant as the last time.

"Nearly," Fred said, overly agreeable, "but she didn't."

George merely shrugged remembering what had happened when Charlie had officially come out of the closet to the rest of the clan, after he had woken up. They had reacted nearly as bad as he had, even though they hadn't had their older siblings find out one of their darkest secrets.

Molly Weasley had paled and stumbled backward just barely caught before she fell by her husband, who hadn't been fairing much better himself. Ginny and Bill had laughed with bemused expressions; while Fred had said, "Took you long enough, I've been suspecting it for _ages_." Then, "Right George? He was totally obvious." Which had caused George to fake a strained smile and laugh, that somehow managed to make Fred happy. All the while his heart had beaten painfully; at the time the possibility of him fainting for the second time in one day seemed highly likely.

Ron and Percy had had identical looks of revulsion. Percy's was quickly quailed by Audrey, who told him off then gave Charlie a lovely smile and her congratulations, and a promise to make Percy see things her way.

He would have loved to see that conversation between his older brother and odd wife, but alas he missed it. It had unfortunately taken place on a Friday he had to see Healer Blinkhorn, now accompanied by Harry or Draco, more often than not both.

I wonder, he mused as his fingers absentmindedly played with a frayed hole on his shirt, what would they think if they knew about me? That thought was pushed forcefully from his mind, becoming the least of his concerns at the moment as he neared the stairs.

Angelina Johnson, Fred's constant on-again-off-again girlfriend was rushing up the stairs with a delighted smile on her face, but he noted a twinge of worry mixed in with the happy emotion.

His stomach clenched tightly as she went around him and Fred so that the two brothers' backs were facing the staircase to look at her.

"Hey Ang," Fred said, smiling at her brightly. "To what do I owe the arrival of your smashing self?"

"I'm pregnant!" Angelina chirped loudly, her wide eyes shining with happiness. George felt as if someone had struck him with lightening.

"What! Are you serious?" Fred exclaimed. If it was he was going to have to go buy a ring. There was no way the Weasley matriarch would allow otherwise; they would get married as soon as possible.

"Yes, I'm sure! The Healer confirmed it yesterday, three weeks along!" She cheered, really excited about the baby and its meaning that she and Fred would _finally _get married.

George heard the exchange, each word numbing his body until he could barely feel at all. The lungs tightened and he struggled to force oxygen to come through. A thousand barbed needles pierced he heart and dug in deep seemingly never, as of then, to release him from the painful grip.

Fred was going to marry Angelina. _She_ was going to have his child. Angelina would completely root George out of Fred's heart.

The needles dug deeper but no blood flooded. It had frozen.

He saw but didn't comprehend Fred making an unconscious step backwards, bumping into him. Neither did he feel his feet slipping from the top step, losing traction and falling down, head first. The bruising he would get from each time he banged against the steps didn't even occur to him. The possible damage that could result from the fall on the baby didn't even cross his mind until he landed at the base of the stairs, and by then it was far too late anyway.

All he could think about as he fell was that Fred would no longer be his. Not that he ever was to begin with.

Then he didn't think at all.

**Territerriterriterri**

Draco and Harry rushed down the hall of St. Mungo's maternity ward, ignoring the mediwizards' and witches' calls to stop running.

They continued to run only stopping when they entered a room they had been visiting for with George for the past month.

"How is he?" Harry asked panting, as Draco still fought to regain his breath.

Healer Blinkhorn spoke tersely, "Not good, not good at all, I'm afraid. There was a lot of damage to his stomach, and it wasn't good for the baby or him."

"What happened?" Draco asked, his words coming out in a whisper as he gripped Harry's quivering hand. Harry started at the contact then glanced at the blond with a small smile, gripping his hand harder.

Blinkhorn tsked at the unconscious figure on the white clad hospital bed. "He came here alone and said that he accidentally fell down the stairs at his flat. I tried to get more out of him but he fell asleep during the examination, after asking me to contact you two."

"You think there's more to the story." Her tone had most definitely implied so.

"Possibly." Was her democratic response.

"What is the extent of the damage to the baby? Do you know?" Harry asked worriedly.

Her face grew grim and answered shortly, "Badly enough that I suggest an abortion."

"Why?" Harry cried out in horror, now squeasing Draco's hand, while he tried to conceal a cringe. "Aren't abortions illegal?"

Draco recited a law in a dead monotone, "The only grounds for an abortion to be performed is that if the mother's life is in danger." Then added for Harry's benefit. "Which doesn't happen often with the advanced healing methods available." He gave Blinkhorn a hard stare that she didn't back down from. "Is it really that bad?"

"I wouldn't dare mention it if it wasn't." she said gravely, "I would recommend doing it now while he's out."

"Healer's are not allowed to administer the potion for abortion without the written permission of the expecting person." Draco said sharply, quoting the law.

Unfortunately Healer Blinkhorn wasn't derailed, "If a healer deems it necessary to save the mother's life, they may do it with the permission by the person chosen by the mother at the beginning of the pregnancy." Her eyes pierced Draco's, "In Mr. Weasley's case, you, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco swallowed hard. What had possessed that bloody fool to pick him to make that big of a decision for him! He knew there had been a reason for his family to dislike the Weasleys; their thought processes defied the laws of logic. But seriously, he didn't know what to do. Abortions where normally not allowed or accepted in wizarding society. They were done in only the most excruciating circumstances.

Like now.

He blanched condemning one of his best friends to death, but his instincts screamed at him to say hell no to the Healer's suggestion.

Luckily George chose to stir before he drove himself stir crazy.

**Territerriterriterri**

George woke up to three frantic people fussing over him. He sat up slowly and cringed as his sore and aching body burned with pain. Ugh. He was definitely going to be feeling the fall for a while.

Harry broke the silence after a few awkward moments, and George dimly noticed that he and Draco had their hands linked. He got the strange inkling that they would probably be together by the time the baby was born.

The bastards.

"What happened George?" Harry asked, with no small amount of distress in his voice.

"I had just finished my packing and had sent Trix to Rathlea; I talked to Fred in the living room for a minute. Then I was about to head downstairs when Angelina came up in a rush." George said in an uncharacteristic monotone that had Harry worried.

"And?" Draco urged when George seemed to have frozen.

Angelina had taken Fred from him. He could tell his emotions were numbing with the rest of him. Without Fred his reason for existence was fast fading.

"And," said George in the same monotone. "She announced she was pregnant."

Draco and Harry both pulled a grimace. Draco had known before on account of George letting it slip one drunken night at the club and Harry had figured it out by George's actions since getting pregnant.

George Weasley was in love, and not the platonic kind, with his twin brother.

It was no wonder George seemed lifeless; god, if they sprung the abortion on him now the news combined might kill him. And they could only hope that the fall had been accidental or at least with non-suicidal intent.

Things appeared to be going from bad to worse by the second.

"So, how exactly did you fall during all of this?" Healer Blinkhorn asked, trying to get back to the subject the conversation had started with.

George tilted his head. "Fred was, understandably, surprised, accidentally bumped in to me, and I lost my balance and fell."

"Damn it! How could Fred do that?" Harry growled, looking a bit murderous at the moment. "I can't forgive him for this."

"Why?" George asked with a little more feeling than before.

"Because," Draco answered gripping Harry's hand tighter as he chose the right words to explain, " He put you and the baby in a very dangerous situation. By carelessness or not it is inexcusable."

The baby? Thought George dully. What about the baby? He hadn't registered that him getting hurt had affected the baby.

Now he did.

His eyes slide down to his torso that was visible because his shirt was unbuttoned. George's belly was slightly bulging by now, but with a baggy shirt it was barely noticeable. But that wasn't what attracted his attention.

A large purple-black bruise covered his stomach almost completely, and the needles in his heart got even colder, encasing his heart in a block of ice.

The baby, his baby, was hurt and it was all his fault. Logically he knew it was technically Fred who needed the blame, but to him it was his fault. Fred might have been the one to cause the fall, but it was his fault in the end. He had been a selfish, moronic, stupid, thrice-damned prat when he had admitted to himself that he didn't want the baby. Now something had happened and only he could be blamed.

He put his hand over the bruise and lightly fingered his stomach. "How bad?"

Healer Blinkhorn came forth now and spoke softly, hating the words she had to say. " I think it would be wise to have an abortion."

Terror filled his veins with ice, it was all his fault that his and the baby's lives were in jeopardy. Regardless he wasn't going to save himself by killing the unborn he had jaded too much already.

He decided right then and there that his child would live even if it killed him. Emotions that had too recently numbed came back to him and he felt instant love and protective instincts directed towards the child he would have in a few mere months time.

"No." was his final answer.

Draco didn't know whether to sight in relief or curse George's risky decision that could be detrimental to his health. He knew George was well aware of the grounds for abortion. Nevertheless he had to ask out of concern for his friend's life. "Are you certain?"

George leveled Draco with a glare that would have most quivering in fright. "It will survive regardless of whether I do or not." His voice rang with finality.

At their expressions of worry he grinned and said cheerfully, "So be ready Draco, you might find yourself with the custody of my little angel."

Draco's expression should have been recorded for it was entirely possible that no one in his history of Malfoy's had made such an expression. Tsk tsk, where had that pureblood decorum go? Harry was biting his lip, appearing to be restraining himself from laughing out loud at the blond.

Blinkhorn was the quintessence of seriousness and solemnltiy when she questioned intensely. "Are you positive that is what you want?" At his nod she continued, "Then you must be prepared to follow my every instruction regarding your health."

"Of course."

She gave him a long hard stare. " Well then, I would suggest absolute isolation to prevent anymore…accidents and to keep the environment as peaceful as possible to keep you away from stress."

Blinkhorn paused, noticing the torn look on George's face. "Is _absolute_ isolation necessary? You said it was a suggestion."

"It is a suggestion, but I insist that being around fewer people will be good for your health." Then she smiled mischievously. "About two people around you at a time would be an acceptable amount."

"What about two people and a two year old?" Harry asked, seeing how this was going. It was obvious that George wanted his and Draco's company and Blinkhorn thought it was a semi-good idea.

Healer Blinkhorn thought for a moment, "That would be alright as long as the child won't be allowed to jump on Mr. Weasley."

"You will be will be weak until the delivery because of the damage done physically and because your magic will instinctively drain itself to go to the baby, so you won't be able to heal yourself with your magic and any spell you perform will be weaker than normal.

"Mr. Weasley, you must understand the consequences of this; the more magic your body siphons off to the baby the weaker you will be after it is born. You could be feeling the effects of this pregnancy years from now."

George thought of this for a moment. Did that matter to him? No, it didn't. If it wasn't for the baby he was now greatly anticipating, he would plotting suicide or homicide because of his brother's impending marriage. Besides what were a few years of poor health compared to death?

"What about my angel?" he asked, then clarified, "the baby?"

"Most likely –if he lives - it will be physically weaker than most for its entire life, but magically will be phenomenal. You must remember this is just me speculating."

"Understood. Is there anything else?" George asked, already making plans.

"Just one, I would like you to go on bed rest by June, I fear the baby will be premature so you must rest. When you are at your permanent residence I will come by once every two weeks. I would like your friends to be constantly at your side, so if either of you work you might want to plan out a schedule ." she directed the last part at Draco and Harry.

"I don't work." Harry said quickly. "I can just move in for awhile, if George doesn't mind."

"No problem, in fact if Draco can I'd like him to too." He said, glancing at Draco to see his reaction.

Draco sighed with a mock despairing shrug. "As I have no appointments that are important for the rest of the year, I have no excuse not to go. Maybe my presence around my godson before he's born might offset the Gryffindors surrounding him." He said the word godson hesitantly, not quite sure he understood George when he implied it.

"I have a feeling my angel's going to be spoilt by his godfather than if his grandparents got to him." George muttered under his breath, but loud enough for the room's occupants to hear him clearly.

Draco beamed victoriously. "You can bet on that. First present: a wardrobe of the finest clothes…all in Slytherin colors of course."

"Heaven better help this kid." Harry said throwing his hands up. He was half-joking, but his words rang true to the situation.

It would take a miracle for both George and the baby to come through alive.

**Territerriterriterri**

"So, when's the wedding?" George asked with a realistic grin –that was completely forced and faked - as he sat down across from Fred. They were in the living room again, minus one Angelina.

Fred looked at him darkly as he raised his head from his hands, "May 26th."

George whistled lowly, while his heart tinged with pain. Think about the baby, my baby, he needs me so just deal with it, he commanded himself. Fred was getting married and there was nothing he could say or do to make it otherwise, and he couldn't break down now that he had an obligation to the little life inside of him.

"So soon…" George said his voice trailing off in thought.

"Yeah, you know the longer we wait the more Ang will show, and she said she was not going to look pregnant in her wedding dress." Fred rolled his eyes, showing what he thought about that. George merely commented in his head that she should want to show it, the child she was carrying was the reason she would be wearing a wedding dress anyway. "Don't know why but she does. So get ready Gred."

George blinked and looked at his twin in confusion, "Get ready for what?"

Before Fred could speak the answer hit him and left him burning as Fred confirmed his suspicions.

"The wedding, what else? Who else would I get to be my best man?" Fred said, no realizing the pain he was making his brother experience.

"I would be insulted if it was any other way." He said with a grin.

He would participate in the wedding no matter how much he'd rather murder the bride to stop it. Then when everyone was drunk at the reception he would disappear without anyone noticing, and Fred would see him one last time before leaving on his honeymoon. If he was lucky it would take awhile for anyone to notice he wasn't at his flat.


End file.
